


Welcome Home

by lostinwriting23



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, ESPECIALLY WITH EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN 85!, F/F, I'm ready for Yasha to be home please and thank you, MY GAY HEART IS SOARING, Okay my fics always end up Beau/Jes/Yasha SO HERE WE ARE LEANING INTO IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 08:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinwriting23/pseuds/lostinwriting23
Summary: Beau’s eyes drift from the tiefling in her lap, and fall, for what feels like the first time in ages, to Yasha.It’s really Yasha.If she doesn’t look closely, it’s almost like when they found her in the second basement at the Sour Nest, and suddenly Beau isn’t sure if she wants to look take in every detail or just turn away completely.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 22
Kudos: 532





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Ooh baby, I cannot wait for this week's episode. It's gonna be a doozy.
> 
> Wrote this before all of THAT happened in 85 which like. I should have known was coming because... oh my god they were roommates. And anyway, whenever I start out with one of the girls' pairings in mind, it always morphs to all three of them so fuck it, I'm leaning in this time.
> 
> Anyway. I'm a little scatter-brained so I won't drag this note out but as ever, I love feedback!  
Have a gorgeous day, friends!  
M

They’re holed up in a cave for the night, sheets of rain and blasts of thunder echoing outside, and for such a victory as it has been (and that the Storm Lord seems to think it is), it sure as hell doesn’t feel like one. Everyone is quiet, darting eyes and shifting focus and shifting positions to ease the pains of a hard fought battle. Cadeuces barely scrapes something together for dinner with trembling hands and murmurs out one last Prayer of Healing before most of them crash out around the small fire.

Fjord wakes Beau for second watch (they’ve agreed not to double up this time, since everyone got so fucked up in the fight) and she groggily stumbles out of her bedroll next to Jester’s (who whines at being woken up by proximity) and to a better vantage to see both the whole group and the opening of the cave. She settles herself uncomfortably, running a finger along the new deep scar across the side of her abdomen before flexing the fingers and bending the elbow of her until-recently broken left arm. It aches sharply but the bones are mended and solid.

Their camp is still for a moment and then Jester, apparently still awake, crawls over too, a pout on her face and the blanket slung over her shoulder. She flops down, a little dramatically, but in the way that makes Beau smile, pressing her back to the wall and dropping her head into Beau’s lap, completely depleted from healing, getting knocked unconscious and then waking up to heal again. Something tugs in Beau’s chest at the weight of Jester’s head, the way she seems to release a little tension as Beau’s hands awkwardly settle on her shoulder and temple.

Without realizing, she finds her fingers combing through the knots and blood matted in Jester’s hair. Gentle isn’t a word Beau would use to describe herself, really ever, but she tries her level best where Jester is concerned, especially passed out and exhausted as she is. _She’s cute like this_, Beau thinks to herself, _well, she’s cute no matter what but especially._ Jester’s freckled cheek is smushed up on one side, pressed against Beau’s thigh. There’s a puddle of drool forming and Beau can’t find it within herself to be grossed out. She sinks her fingers deeper into Jester’s usually-soft hair and lets herself enjoy the contact as Jester sighs in her sleep. Maybe tomorrow’s she’ll suggest finding a stream to wash the residue of the battle away.

Beau’s eyes drift from the tiefling in her lap, and fall, for what feels like the first time in ages, to Yasha.

It’s really _Yasha._

If she doesn’t look closely, it’s almost like when they found her in the second basement at the Sour Nest, and suddenly Beau isn’t sure if she wants to look take in every detail or just turn away completely. Eventually, she falls on the former.

There are burns across her ivory skin but they’re mostly superficial, flash damage from spells, nothing like the deep branded burns that had crisscrossed her arms and legs. Most of the open, seeping wounds are slashes or punctures, one way or clean. Beau stares deep into them, reminding herself that they’re nothing like the grotesque flowers of the hook wounds, punctured in and then ripped out.

She’s drawn to the obvious evidence of her own attacks against Yasha. Deep purple-blue bruises criss cross her arms and cheeks, blotches for her fists or feet and heavy blocks of line from her staff. She thinks it’s possible that she broke a rib or three of Yasha’s at one point, which she knows might have been “necessary” but the idea still makes her back teeth grind together. It looks like one of the blows burst a couple blood vessels in Yasha’s cheek too, the bruise spotty and speckled beneath her skin, and Beau has to physically shake her head to dispel the memory of cracking a roundhouse kick to Yasha’s cheek in a sentinel attack to ensure that Yasha didn’t get in range of the rest of the Nein until Jester’s duplicate was close enough to dispel the symbol on Yasha’s neck. (_“Come on, Yash, I know you’re in there. Fight!”)_ Yasha-not-Yasha had howled in rage at being stuck in place and turned a primal glare on Beau. Her eyes had filled with tears even as she swung the Skin Gorger to bite into Beau’s side. Yeah… that one had hurt.

She’d bled from the eyes, Beau suddenly remembers, tracking the faint red lines down either side of Yasha’s swollen, broken nose. After Duplicate-Jester had touched the angry orange sigil on the back of Yasha’s neck and dissipated the magic’s hold over her. A scream like the one at Molly’s grave had ripped out of Yasha’s throat and she’d fallen to her knees, head clutched in her hands, Skin Gorger forgotten at her side. And then miraculously, Yasha was theirs again. Roaring her rage again but this time, facing Obann, slashing with the Magician’s Judge, diving forward to drag Nott out of the way by the ankle when she went down much too close to the Laughing Hand. She was almost feral again and more than once Beau had to remind herself not to get distracted.

Then Jester went down (Beau thought her heart stopped for a second and Obann managed to get her with the tip of his long sword before she dove away), and Cadeuces pulled her back up. Fjord dropped soon after then came back, just barely, and Beau thanked whatever Orcish blood he had to keep that idiot standing when he ought to be down. Caleb cradled Nott in his lap, dumping a healing potion down her throat with one hand and then slamming his other hand to the ground and sending out his web of fire to wrap its tendrils around the Laughing Hand. And Beau… Beau threw herself back into the fight with a single, crystalline thought. _Protect the family._ Between her lightning gloves, Cadeuces turning her into a holy weapon and the cover provided by the trees, she’d nearly flown around the battle field, a moving shield between whoever needed it most and their foes.

Then, Obann was dead, Yasha made quick work of him and returned him to the ichor that had splattered the floor of the Crawling King’s inner chamber before. The Laughing Hand fled this time, only barely hanging on to a shred of life or whatever it had and the Nein had limped their way to a victory.

They’d barely made it out of the forest through the downpour before Yasha crumpled to her knees, eyes empty. She’d reached into her own pack and pulled out a pair of manacles. Jester, Beau and Cadeuces had all protested but she wouldn’t respond. Just locked the metal around her wrists, dropped the keys at Fjord’s feet and rolled to face the cave wall. He’d looked shocked and picked up the keys, pocketing them inside his armor and conspicuously not handing them over to Beau when they’d switched watches. She tried not to let it piss her off. (It did)

Jester shuffles around in Beau’s lap, bringing her attention back to the present as she drops her gaze. She’s met with bleary purple eyes staring back at her.

“You should sleep more,” Beau murmurs, keeping her voice low enough that even Caduceus’s sensitive ears don’t flicker, “You were like, MVP today.”

Jester answers with a grin that doesn’t quite make it to her eyes and Beau’s heart lurches a little bit.

“Do… You’re sure my magic worked, right?” She whispers, head lolling to the side again to stare at Yasha’s back.

“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Beau combs her fingers back into Jester’s hair absentmindedly.

“Okay…” Jester’s voice wobbles and Beau tugs on the locks between her fingers gently a couple times until Jester turns over to look up at her again, a slow tear trickling down the side of her nose.

“What’s wrong, Jes?”

“It’s just… You know, she was fighting on our side but when we got back here her eyes were all empty and sad and stuff. And she just… laid down and locked herself up and what if Obann still has control of her? What if he told her to pretend to be back on our side?”

“That… there’s no way. She was the one that sliced his head off and sent him back to wherever in the Hells he came from.”

“But her eyes. She looked so…” A small sob breaks whatever Jester is going to say next and she buries her face in Beau’s stomach and wraps her arms around her waist. Beau freezes for a second, unsure of exactly how to respond but eventually she puts one hand back in Jester’s hair and settles the other to rub slow, (hopefully) comforting circles between her shoulder blades.

It goes on for more time that Beau knows what to do, but she keeps petting Jester’s hair and rubbing her back and slowly, Jester calms down and relaxes a little again. She uses the cuffs of her dress to mop ag her face and breathes out a shakey sigh.

“You’ve been dealing with a lot of this shit on your own. You’re the only one who had to watch her be controlled and… ya know, kill all those people at the Cobalt Soul. That’s a lot to see, let alone relay to us and then we… we missed Traveler Con which hasn’t really been discussed and I’m… I’m really sorry about all of that.”

“Well. We got Yasha back, so it was worth it, right?” Jester’s smile wobbles as another tear drips off her eyelashes and Beau is at an utter loss.

“I… Hopefully. Is… is The Traveller mad at you?” Which is apparently the wrong thing to ask. Because Jester’s face screws up in that awful way it does when she’s trying to pretend she’s not upset and the pain just pours from her eyes. Beau’s chest hurts.

“I don’t really know, you know, because he’s been so busy planning and I’m sure meeting all the other people who worship him. Because he’s pretty cool and pretty much the best God there is so I’m sure there were also lots of other new followers. So.”

_So they haven’t talked in weeks_, Beau thinks to herself and she’s almost mad at The Traveller. Jester’s dealt with a lot and not having her oldest, most constant companion around-

“I’m sure that’s what it is. You know, gotta get the new blood initiated or whatever. Not in like a creepy cult-y way just in a like ‘yo, we’re a thing now and you follow me, let’s hang out,’ or whatever. He know you love him, ya know, it’s not like you just decided not to go. We were battling for our friend’s soul, he’ll get that.”

Jester sighs from her position in Beau’s lap again and nods, “Yeah, that’s what it is. I’ll just have to pull some really good pranks to remind him that I was the first.”

And Beau finds herself saying, “I mean, if you ever want any help with those, I’d be happy to offer my services.”

Jester snuggles her head down closer against Beau’s leg and sighs again, “Thanks Beau.”

They’re quiet for a while and Beau almost wonders if Jester’s asleep again until there’s a glide against Beau’s side, cool fingers across the puckered skin there. Jester’s fingers jump from one scar to another across her side until she’s stopped by Beau’s top. Electricity zaps through Beau’s body, her breath coming in short bursts suddenly and she has to swallow hard at whatever feelings are welling up inside her.

“You should go back to sleep,” Beau says again, more gruff than she intends.

Jester doesn’t respond and instead starts working her way down the scars again with an odd kind of focus. It’s… Beau’s not… why are there tears in her eyes?

Beau reaches down and catches Jester’s hand, halting her progress just above the waist of her pants, “Jes.”

Jester looks up in surprise, like she almost didn’t realize what she was doing and Beau turns her head because there are still stupid tears in her eyes and why-

“Oh no, Beau, did I hurt you?”

“I- what? No. I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Jester doesn’t seem to buy it and Beau still can’t figure out what’s wrong with her, “In the morning, I can heal you again. I’m sorry I-”

“No, Jes, don’t apologize, it’s nothing. I’m okay.”

Beau still has Jester’s hand and she can’t bring herself to let go. Jester doesn’t seem to mind and for the rest of watch, Beau lets Jester fold and unfold her fingers. She hums a little song and lets Sprinkle scamper up and down her legs, but Jester doesn’t go back to sleep. Beau doesn’t push and when her watch is over, she nudges Jester to her feet, squeezing her hand once before detangling their fingers and rising painfully.

Caleb is only a few feet away, Frumpkin curled up on his chest and Nott tucked securely under an arm. Beau shakes his shoulder a bit rougher than she means to but his eyes open.

“You okay, schwester?” He mumbles, raising his head slowly.

Something funny coils in Beau’s chest at the term of endearment, (she’s pretty sure he thinks she doesn’t know what it means but she looked it up last time they were at the Soul and… oof) and she socks him gently in the shoulder, “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

He catches her wrist and squeezes, flicking an eye down at the new scar on her side, “Better now that we’re all together again.” Caleb all but pours Frumpkin to curl around Nott. The fae cat chirps at him before dropping his head into Nott’s open palm and closing his eyes. Caleb’s lips twitch as he rolls to his knees.

Beau stands up from her position at his side, looking back toward where her’s and Jester’s bedrolls had been. But the space is barren. Beau swivels her head back around and eventually finds Jester dragging both of their bedrolls and laying them at Yasha’s back. As if she can feel Beau’s gaze, Jester turns wide, wet, purple eyes on her and Beau’s a goner. She picks over Nott and Cadeuces to flop down on her bedroll next to Jester. The tiefling in question wastes no time throwing a heavy, blue arm across Beau’s waist, tucking her fingers into the back of Yasha’s belt. Beau’s breath hitches in her chest as Jester nuzzles her face between her shoulder blades and releases a shaky breath of her own. Her tattoo is mostly healed but Beau can feel her own heartbeat through the entire design and she brings her arm up alongside Jesters and rests tentatively on Yasha’s hip.

“Now at least she knows she’s not alone.” Jester mumbles.

It takes Beau a while to get her heart rate back down to a normal speed and even longer to finally fall asleep, the puffs of Jester’s breath against her back equal parts comforting and distracting.

XXX

Yasha wakes in the morning to Beau’s back pressed up against hers and Jester, pillowing sleeping Beau’s head on one bicep, with the fingers of her other hand still tucked in Yasha’s belt. Caleb’s head rises from his book as Yasha shifts, pain slicing through her ribs. Her head feels so empty and so full and she presses her eyes closed again as Caleb comes closer, unwilling for him to see the tears in her eyes.

She hears Caleb stop nearby and then silence for so long that she wonders if he’s planning the best way to get rid of her, kill her and be done with it. She almost wishes he’d do it, just end this misery-

There’s a quiet but resounding knock that echoes in their little corner of the cavern. Beau and Jester shuffle a little in their sleep but don’t wake. And the self imposed chains around Yasha’s wrists slither to the floor.

“Welcome home.”


End file.
